


When Stars Reappear

by SixthNight



Series: Stars Above [1]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Post-Advent Children (Compilation of FFVII), Romance, RuTi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27053095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SixthNight/pseuds/SixthNight
Summary: An unexpected meeting leads to a long awaited first date between Rude and Tifa.
Relationships: Tifa Lockhart/Rude
Series: Stars Above [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2111811
Comments: 10
Kudos: 16





	When Stars Reappear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arisa_K](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arisa_K/gifts).



> Happy Birthday to the most fantastic beta a girl could ask for ♥️ a little bit of Rude + Tifa to celebrate!

Lately, she’s taken to walking the city streets when she needs a break from the chaos of home and the bar. Ever since Cloud came back, if she’s being honest with herself. There’s nothing romantic between them anymore and she’s come to accept it, but it doesn’t mean that living as a family is always easy. Tifa knows it’s anything but. So now she’s exploring a new part of town, enjoying the hustle and bustle of the arts district on a Friday.

The sun ticks lower on the horizon, casting long shadows from the tall buildings that have sprung up in Edge. A glance at the skyline and she realizes she’s thoroughly lost. She could reach for her PHS and map directions back, but a budding sense of adventure wells up in her chest at the notion of having to figure it out on her own. Her eyes shift right to catch a street sign as she continues down the sidewalk. One minute, she’s deciphering where she might be and the next, she’s bouncing off of a chest. Her heels scuff the concrete as she catches her balance, throwing her arms out to assist.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry!” Tifa says immediately, eyes traveling from a pair of studded black boots all the way up to a familiar face. Her eyes grow wide in recognition. “Rude!”

“Tifa, hey. Sorry about that.” Rude adjusts his shades and dusts his jacket off with one gloved hand while the other tucks away his phone. “Shouldn’t be texting and walking,” he adds wryly.

“No problem,” she says with a smile.

At least she didn’t attempt to mow down a complete stranger. Rude has become something of a friend in the months since Geostigma vanished. He and Reno stop by for a drink most weekends, in fact. She’s gotten to know him quite well, especially when his partner finds a conquest for the evening.

“What are—” they both start to say.

Tifa laughs while Rude cracks a lopsided smirk. The expression stirs butterflies in her stomach that she tries to deny, but it’s getting harder to ignore the crush she’s been cultivating in the last few weeks. She tries again. “What are you doing in this part of town?”

Rude hesitates a second, almost like he might be shy to answer. She can see his lashes fluttering behind his lenses as he casts his gaze toward the sidewalk with a few fast blinks. He slowly replies, “I come here for the poetry.”

She furrows her brows and asks, “The poetry?”

“There’s a coffee shop that has an open mic on Friday afternoons. I was just on my way there.”

The admission surprises her and brings a grin to her lips. “That sounds interesting. Do you participate or just watch?”

“I write a little but uhh…haven’t been brave enough to get up there yet. Mostly just a spectator.”

Tifa nods along to his answer, humming gently. “Well, you’re just full of surprises lately aren’t you?” she says and it seems he doesn’t miss her flirty tone.

Rude shifts his weight just so, a smile forming on his lips. “So, I’m early and I was going to grab a cup of coffee,” he tells her. He shifts a little more as he adds, “Would you like to join me?”

She’s honestly been waiting for this. They’ve been flirting whenever Reno and Cloud are distracted and the secret flames they’ve been fanning are generating far too much heat for him _not_ to ask her out. She tries not to get ahead of herself, though. They are friends and it _is_ just coffee. Tifa smiles again when she answers, “I could go for a cup.”

Rude leads the way, taking her back in the direction she’s just been. It doesn’t come as a surprise when he ducks inside a white brick building she remembers passing, the smell of freshly roasted coffee drifting from the shop. As they step through the door the scent evolves, infusing the bright acidity of the coffee with sweetness from pastries and a hint of spice. The aroma makes her close her eyes and breathe deeply. A lingering sigh of contentment escapes her with the feeling of coziness this place evokes.

When she opens her eyes, Rude is giving her a knowing smile. “That’s half the reason I come here,” he admits.

Tifa laughs softly as she follows him to the register. He buys her a cup of coffee he insists she try black even though she usually takes cream. There are coffee presses and glass jars meant for pour-over brewing on the shelves, she notices. Fancy coffee, then. She agrees to give it a shot as the barista hands them each a mug.

Rude winds through tables to the very back corner. Just beyond him, the brick walls fade away into frosted glass windows so large that the afternoon sun pours in even though the shop is nestled between buildings. Houseplants enjoy the light from the window sill and a few hang from the ceiling. The atmosphere is so lovely she can’t help thinking she’d love a window like this in her home one day.

He claims a chair at the end of the table so she sinks into the one next to him. The warmth from the coffee seeps into her gloves, filling her hand pleasantly.

“Tell me how you got into poetry,” she asks, waiting for her coffee to cool a bit.

“I’ve liked it since I can remember.” He glances down at his mug. “But it really helped to keep me grounded after everything that…happened.”

Tifa feels the words twist through her stomach. “I understand. We all process differently, I can imagine poetry is a beautiful way to do that.”

With that, he’s actually grinning. She’s never seen him smile like this and it’s infectious. Her heart skips a beat, sending her looking for a distraction. She lifts her mug, venturing a sip of the dark brew. The sweet combination of buttery chocolate and oranges is unexpected as it floods her senses and it’s absurdly delicious.

“I had no idea coffee could taste like this,” she says excitedly. “I’m so used to the undertones of burnt toast and bitterness with the old coffee maker we have at the bar, I guess I’ve been missing out.”

Rude sips his drink, satisfaction washing over his features. “You have. I was the same way before I found this place, coffee at the office is mud compared to this.”

“Everything is mud compared to this,” she comments. “How is work, anyway? Settling into the new office?”

“It’s been good. Funny how everything has changed, yet it feels pretty much the same.”

“Oh?”

“You know, Reno pulling ridiculous pranks and bickering with Elena. Same old office antics, new office,” he says with a shrug.

Tifa giggles at the imagery, recalling how Reno was bragging about something he'd pulled on his coworkers the last time she saw him. “Reno’s still at it with the pranks, huh?”

“He thought it would be hilarious to post a contest for the best Chocobo impression, left my number as the one to call. For _days_ I’ve had calls and voicemails of people kwehing like birds.”

Rude says it so stoically that Tifa tries and fails to stifle a laugh. She snorts, covering her mouth with a hand. “I’m sorry,” she blurts.

A hint of a smirk ghosts his lips. “It’s fine, it is actually kind of funny.”

He places his PHS between them on the table and hits play on a voicemail. A long, drawn-out sound screeches from the device. A few pairs of eyes swing their way from the cafe. She’s not sure what the recording sounds like—maybe something dying—but definitely not a Chocobo. She can’t help it as she starts to laugh. Rude chuckles along with her.

“Gods, that’s awful,” she says when the laughter subsides.

“You’re telling me,” he echoes.

She just catches the eye roll he gives behind his glasses. It sparks something in her and forces a question she’s been wondering about for a while. “What color are your eyes?” 

It takes Rude a second to catch up, he sips coffee while he processes. But he obliges her and slips the shades off, tucking them into his jacket pocket. She’s brimming with anticipation, unable to see his eyes behind his lowered lashes. She still can’t believe she’s never seen him without the accessory.

When he does look up, those butterflies take flight again.

Rude’s eyes are hazel, she guesses, though not the typical shade. Brilliant flecks of jade glow against deep umber. Soulful, handsome eyes. She’s utterly captivated for a moment and without thinking, she brushes her hand against his where it rests on the table. Her fingers drape gently over his, the touch sending his eyes to their joined hands.

She’s aware of how easy it is to hold his hand, like it’s the most effortless thing in the world. She only wishes his gloves were off, the desire to feel his skin strong on her mind. Finally breaking the silence she says, “You should take those off more often.”

Rude glances back up with a smile that reaches his eyes. “If this is the response I get, I just might.”

Tifa can’t stop smiling, it makes her feel giddy in a way she hasn’t before. They chat over coffee for a long while and she doesn’t reclaim her hand, happily maintaining the contact. When the first poet takes to the small stage, she’s surprised at how much she enjoys observing both the speaker and Rude. He seems riveted by the heartfelt words the artist shares with the audience and she decides she likes this side of him.

After being moved to misty eyes by a few poems and brought to belly laughs by others, she realizes she wants to hear some of _his_ words. There is a lull between performers and Tifa fixes Rude with a curious gaze.

“You know, you could get up there.”

Rude appears to startle as he glances her way. “You mean…?”

“Oh yeah. I know you can do it,” she encourages.

He shakes his head, moving his eyes to the empty mug in his hands. “I don’t think anyone wants to hear my stuff.”

It strikes her, the sadness underscoring his words. “Well, I do,” she says resolutely.

His eyes drift to hers again. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“Aw, come on,” she pushes as she brushes his shoulder playfully. “I’ll buy you another cup of coffee.”

The bribe doesn’t work, he just shakes his head. “Any more and I think I’ll be too jittery to talk,” he remarks.

She needs to get creative—an idea slips into mind. “How about a kiss?”

Rude gives her a suspicious look. “A kiss?”

“Yep, all you have to do is share one teensy little poem.” She holds up a single digit in emphasis.

Contemplation settles over his face as he seems to consider her offer. She’s nervous that she’s even offered it to begin with, her pulse hammering in her ears. She’s wanted to kiss him for a while, but she’s never found the right time. Maybe here, in a coffee shop far from her part of town, it’s just the right time.

Rude finally nods and gets to his feet. “One poem,” he says.

His steps toward the stage are a little hesitant, but he makes his way up to the mic. Testing that it’s on, he clears his throat as everyone looks his way. But his eyes float to her, focusing on her reassuring smile.

The words begin to flow, slowly at first until he finds his pace.

“The stars are blotted out by steel,  
The time for wisdom lost.  
I cannot explain what it is I feel,  
Only that my veins fill with frost.”

Realization dawns, an ache filling her chest. She knows exactly what he’s sharing, especially as he continues.

“For there is a burden to be borne,  
I must carry it for an age.  
The stars shine now the steel is torn,  
But I cannot see their light from my cage.”

The confession breaks her heart a little, takes her to a darker time. Moisture wells up in her eyes, an uninvited guest. She can hear the unsteady breaths she’s taking, the sound too loud in her ears.

“Time passes but my sorrow remains,  
A constant companion unwelcome.  
I wonder how long I’ll wear the chains,  
Their chaffing touch burns like venom.”

He takes a breath, likely finding the will to finish what he’s started. The crowd is quiet, captivated as he starts to speak again.

“Yet, there is hope on the horizon,  
She sees beyond days gone by,  
And studies me with eyes of crimson,  
Her forgiveness like a lullaby.”

The tears that were forming slip down her cheeks, trails of salt streaming to her chin. She’s never known that the forgiveness she’s offered him and Reno for everything that happened in Sector Seven was such a comfort to Rude. Her hands shake as she wipes at her jaw.

The audience comes out of their reverie giving quiet applause for Rude as he steps from the stage. He’s walking back her way and she gets to her feet. Her arms reach on their own accord, opening to him. As he draws near, she wraps him in an embrace.

He’s trembling lightly, so she holds him tight. One arm sneaks over his shoulder, her fingers caressing his neck to comfort him. The touch brings his forehead to hers, their breath mingling in shared emotion. It’s as if the entire world has narrowed to this moment.

His hand drifts to cradle the side of her head, fingers snaking into her hair. The touch is gentle and she brushes her nose against his, her eyes fluttering as she ventures a glance toward his lips. Mere inches separate them now and she can feel the heat of him, but she’s grown shy in the seconds that pass.

Rude must notice her timidity, his free hand slipping to the small of her back. It grounds her just enough, makes her feel safe. She brushes her bottom lip against his, testing. Sparks fly and she winds an arm beneath his, her hand climbing his back. She wonders if the stars he spoke of will reappear tonight.

The feather-light touch is not enough, though, it never was. Rude closes the distance, kissing her deeply as his fingers brush behind the shell of her ear. It takes her breath away, stealing every thought from her mind. Everything except the realization that it’s all just changed irrevocably because of one poem and one kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been learning Blender lately, so I rendered a little something to go along with this piece:  
> [](https://imgur.com/dCMTny8)  
> [](https://imgur.com/2MHrzQ9)  
> [](https://imgur.com/TLplYaE)


End file.
